Barefooted Boy
by tplink
Summary: Sidon sees Link for who he really is. Originally written April 2017.


**Barefooted Boy** by tplink

This was originally written in April 2017 and posted to AO3 under the same name. No editing has been done to this story since then, I'm merely just posting it here in an attempt to start using this website again lol. Warnings for suicidal ideation.

* * *

He at last awoke, stumbling cold and wet from the chamber that had quietly bore him for almost a century. He possessed not a memory to his name (not that he had a name to begin with) nor any semblance of who he used to be. All he had was this shell, a body, that had been left behind by a valiant boy before him. A boy he did not know; a boy who was freed, agonizingly yet at the same time with wonderful mercy, from the binds and links of destiny.

Mud coated his bare hands and feet. The newly awakened boy dragged his trembling body through dirt and grime until the light of the harsh sun finally kissed skin and burned into wide, questioning eyes. He held his gaze, silently, now standing on two wobbling legs as his eyes set their sights outward and into the wilds. When the horizon stared back at him, endless and grand, he felt his first occurrence of emotion. He felt small, and alone.

It was not long until he was discovered by others while wandering away from his little cave. The world that he found himself born into was strange indeed. it was sometimes delicate, mindful of his incredibly fragile existence. He found that he liked the taste of apples baked by an open fire, and often caught himself longingly peaking at small birds as they gracefully danced from tree branch to tree branch, or soared through puffs of clouds up above his head. Other times, most times even, it wasn't that mindful. The wild had taught him how to feel the biting cold of a downpour, and the heat of flames, too, who demanded respect in trade for its valuable warmth and protection. He had even felt the bite of steel and bone grazing across his skin, though never willingly.

There were many things to learn from an ever shifting world like this one.

The woman they called Impa had given him a name, Link, and taught him how to speak with his hands when he could not bring himself to move his lips. No matter how hard he willed and wished so, no sounds would pass through him. His hands could only project basic thoughts and feelings, never the thunderstorms nor flurries that blew through Links head. Even when he sometimes caught Impa's sad gaze, staring at him yet not at all, Link could not articulate his concern for her. He wondered, with fear pooling in the crevices of his heart, if she too wished that he was the boy that had left behind nothing but this shell.

Link learned indeed, and soon he grew too big to stay hidden within the shadows of Kakariko. The skies shifted and days began to meld together until they became weeks, and it was only when he felt the sensation of water lapping at his feet did the onslaught of time cease its cruel trek. Link gazed upwards, blue eyes following shimmering waterfalls and for a flickering moment he wanted nothing more than to climb to their peaks.

A voice he had never heard before rained down into his eardrums. "Say here there! Young one!" it poured. The center of his neck began to burn, throbbing, and Link clutched at his exposed throat, choking on what should've been a response.

Sidon did not care about his supposed impairment. Instead he hardly acknowledged that it was there at all, the prince settled on letting him be true to himself in his own way. Link did not know which was worse. "You speak from the heart and not the mouth," is what he had told him one day when Link was feeling particularly terrible (which was most days). "It makes you quite unlike anyone else I've ever met." The boy wished he wouldn't be so kind, not after what he had done, or thought he did. But Prince Sidon would would laugh off the notion every single time. It stirred something in him, but he could not find the words to describe exactly what that something was.

Link learned more about the boy; the boy that everyone thought he was. The boy with his very same name, flesh… but he knew that the insides were different. He bitterly reminisced back to the short time he had spent with Impa; though grateful he was for the kindness that she showed him and for giving him some semblance of personhood (even as borrowed as it might be). Maybe her only motivation had been pity, or maybe just the false hopes of a delirious and aging old woman. Link could not push away the sensation of everyone's eyes seeping into his skin, cutting into muscle and through bones. They wanted to rip him apart down to the soul, and start anew. And Link, feeling smaller and smaller with each passing day, wanted nothing more than to give them just that.

The only one who did not plague him with these insecurities was Sidon. Perhaps it was only because he had never known the boy that Link used to be. He was too young to remember him back then, is what the prince had said. "My father has told me stories about a Hylian Champion, but I think one hundred years can change much about a person." he added before winking. Though the thought made Links insides quiver, he knew undoubtedly how much easier things would be if Sidon were like the others.

Never the less, Link found himself seeing the prince more and more. Yet despite all of that he didn't know what a noble would want with a dejected creature such as he. Sidon was so beautiful, so full of life, and when Link, blighted and meager, stood next to him? It was almost like an insult. What right did he have?

That was enough to seal Link's fate.

He stood atop one of the waterfalls he had wished to climb so long ago. His eyes bore down at the Domain, a heavy heart lay in his hollow chest and a heaviness pressed against his eyes.

Perhaps that heaviness would let his body sink down into the bottom of the lake hundreds of feet below him. Perhaps, goddesses willing, the Link after him would be able to speak with a strong voice becoming of the spirit that was said to be dwelling within. Perhaps, that boy wouldn't have to be an empty reminder of all of the things that no longer were there.

"What are you doing here?" A voice pulled Link away, webbed hands placing themselves upon his shoulders. Had he not been so far away with his thoughts, he would have noticed that Sidon's nails had been delicately and carefully filed down to their quicks. A show of tenderness to his most cherished, human companion. "I may not know much about you Hylians, but you'll surely catch cold if you continue to stand out here in the rain like this."

Was Sidon pretending that he didn't know what Link had been planning, or was he as stupid and blindingly hopeful as the boy had initially suspected? As always, Link could not say a thing, and so he merely turned his body away.

His inattention did not go by unnoticed by Sidon, so the prince spoke carefully, knowing fully after all what was on Links mind. "They say that you're not the same Link as you were so long ago; they say that you're an empty conch being tossed around by the shore. The Elders even tell me that I must be delusional, and they ask me, what do I see when I look at you? It must not be the same thing as all the others."

Link wasn't sure he could bear listening to another word. The gift of speech, of outwardly expressing your innermost thoughts and feelings, it had all seemed like such a beautiful thing at first. Perhaps to him at least, one who had never known anything more than silence. And yet he's learned that there are those who would use cruel, twisted words to hurt him. It mortified and intrigued Link all at the same time.

Before he knew it, Sidon was again holding him. He willed himself to pull away, and to finally finish what he had started, but found himself too weak. Feet rooted firmly into the ground, head pressed miserably against the others chest, Link could not lift himself up. It was like his body had submitted itself to another hundred years of stasis.

"I cannot yet see the Champion who my sister loved so dearly, the one who she vowed to love eternally. Nor do I see the knight I've heard so many stories of, tales of valor and courage," the prince whispered, somehow passing through the rain and thus continuing his onslaught. "I'm not even sure that I can see a hero." He was only repeating what Link had told himself time and time again. Things that Link wished he could say if only he only a voice like everyone else. And yet no matter how much he believed these words rang true, hearing such things tumble off of the lips of the only person who Link thought believed in him? The one person he had come to cherish? Link could feel something breaking, even after he had thought there was nothing else left to break.

Please leave, he wanted to scream. Please leave me so that I can die. All of his bones shattered that very moment. The shell was blown away, scattering little bits of dust and ash of what used to be Link and leaving nothing in its wake of destruction but a vulnerable, throbbing core.

The boy collapsed to his knees, not caring for the mud that coated him like a second skin, and he sobbed and cried like a newborn child. So easily he had slipped from Sidon's grasp. Please leave, he would have repeated, screamed, please leave now that you have finally seen me for all that I am… nothing.

But he did not. "What I see…" the voice rose again, somehow strong enough to cut past Link's hysteric wailing. "What I see is a barefooted boy, covered in grime, tears. All of those things shelter and hide away what lies beneath. But, I want to see you, Link, for what you really are; I want to see you shining brightly." Sidon surrounded him then, protecting Link now that he no longer had a shell to hide behind. "Come, come, Link, no more tears."

His shaking hands rose to touch the princes face. Just as they were about to meet their resting place, instead Link willed them to form words. Is that what you really see? Is that really enough for you? For everyone?

Sidon wiped the hair from his face, sopping wet, looking Link in the eyes and making sure Link stared back until the only thing the boy could see within its depths was his own reflection staring back at him.

"It always has been."

Link was enough, and that was enough for him.

END.


End file.
